The wind was increasing, and it felt colder than at any time since they had arrived in the Big Woods. Should the snow start to descend, and the gale grow in volume, they must unite to form what Frank had called a blizzard.
Bluff knew something about such a storm. He had even been through an experience of the sort, though at the time he happened to be close to home, and on a well-traveled road, so there had been no such thing as getting lost.
It would be vastly different here, where the trees looked pretty much alike and all sense of direction must depend on a compass.
Jerry was, to tell the truth, pretty near the point where he would be willing to call a halt. A big moose was all very well, if only you could overtake him; but this thing of pushing on and on everlastingly, without seeming to get a yard nearer your intended game, seemed foolish.
That was what Jerry had begun to tell himself. He wondered how much farther his chum meant to go. Jerry would have asked the question, but really he was afraid Bluff would turn on him and snap him up in that quick way he had. Besides, he had said he did not mean to speak for at least ten minutes.
While he cast frequent looks ahead, it was more in the hope of seeing signs of the westering sun peeping out from the gray clouds that covered the heavens everywhere than that he dreamed of making any other agreeable discovery.
Once they had actually seen a deer jumping off through the timber. Bluff had half raised his gun to his shoulder, perhaps through instinct, and then lowered it again instantly, with a negative shake of his head.
Having started out for big game, he did not mean to be diverted from his course. A deer they could secure almost any time, but never again would such a glorious chance arise for getting a shot at a moose—and such a moose, in the bargain!
Frank had advised Bluff to leave his pump-gun behind this time, and carry the repeating rifle which Frank owned, a very serviceable and reliable weapon.
“A shotgun is all very well,” he had argued, “and some of them will shoot charges of twelve buckshot in a satisfactory way; but when it’s a tough old bull moose you’re after, or like that grizzly out West, you need something better. These soft-nosed bullets will mushroom when they strike, and fetch even a lion. They’re the kind they call dum-dum bullets, and are not allowed in warfare any more, but can be used for big-game hunting.”